Happy Weekend

Lately, Monday through Thursday have been finding ways to wind me so tight that by the time Friday morning rolls around I very much resemble Cameron Frye skipping school to drive Ferris Bueller around in a Ferrari – unfortunately imagining my Acura as a Ferrari doesn’t make my day any easier.  During the week, I can’t always read to James or swing with James or take his big blue alligator and crawl around the house pretending to “get” James.   In fact, tonight I caught myself, just before I poured cheerios into the spaghetti sauce, because I thought it was a fabulous idea to cook dinner and feed James simultaneously...It was not.  So much for the June Cleaver Award. 

Oh but then there’s the weekend.  Two solid days of freedom—

freedom from keeping score

freedom from juggling that weekday routine

freedom from my increasingly annoying alarm clock

freedom from far too often stretching myself far too thin

freedom from pulling every ounce of knowledge related to medicine from my brain then freely handing it over to doctors, pharmacists, and professors so that they may judge its accuracy and completeness. 

But most of all my weekends offer freedom from being a grown up.

Weekends -- the days when I am free to give full attention to James and only James – his imagination, his bouncing, his get-up-and-go, his insight into a world that I unintentionally overlook nearly every other day of the week.  And in doing this, I become a kid as well.  (okay, not a kid entirely but as close as a girl with a Type-A personality can get). 

We travel...

                                                      ...in wagons.

We climb...

...over and on top of puppies (and Max).

We ride dinosaurs...

...singing & smiling dinos only.

We make wishes in fountains.

We watch fish swim by.

We play with trains.

(both on and off the tracks)

We pretend to mow the grass...

then take a break...

then determine there's an easier way to operate a push mower.

We pretend that the abacus is the coolest roller coaster EVER!

We go grocery shopping.

 We climb yellow, green and purple mountains.

 We play in the garden.

 We consider eating flowers...

but I suggest otherwise.

 So we continue to explore all the different colors and textures.

I see my weekends as a time for all the times there just wasn’t time – when the day didn’t work out and I found myself in a tizzy the rest of the week just attempting to keep up or sometimes even trying to catch up. 

 Weekends are for throwing pennies in fountains, for reading goodnight moon a gazillion times, for finger painting, for finding shapes in clouds, for silly songs and even sillier dancing, for playing outdoors without noticing the heat, and for putting all of last week’s anxiety behind you. 

And although each Monday morning hits me like a bus, knocking me into the middle of next week, literally, (okay, not literally but that's the excuse I'm using to explain such a lapse in time since my last post) I don't mind it so much any more because at the end of the that long grueling week there's
The Weekend!

 Ready for the Weekend!!